New low

I haven't been that drunk in years. Which, according to Randy, should be a good thing but sadly, of late, drinking turns me not into the pile of giggles of yesteryear but rather what can only be described as a hot mess.

I managed to consume my limit. My absolute limit. My under the table limit of 7. I think. Wifey saw it coming. I remember her announcing that she was going to go get her car. I'm not sure at what point I went from happily chatting with Skaten Worshipper to shitty. I think it might have been Mr Bedlam explaining to me why I'm still single. ouch. He wasn't being mean, and it seems to be everyone's favorite game, but it's a sore spot and I'd been drinking. If I hadn't been, I'm sure that the tears wouldn't have been falling as Wifey led me from the bar. She has excellent timing.

I remember someone calling out my name as we left, apparently it was the owner of the bar. I couldn't respond. I was too far gone. I remember Wifey telling me that I may have been a little lonely before, but at least I wasn't like this.  

The truth still stings.

She made sure I got in the door. I collapsed next to the rabbit cage and proceeded to puke all over the carpet and pass out. At some point I rolled over in it. The dogs, thankfully, were off amusing themselves so I didn't have to try and fight them off. Bless them, they are good boys. 

I managed to peel myself up off the floor, shower and go to bed. I'm hoping that my clothes aren't ruined, I like that shirt. I'm still trying to figure out why I put Mr Bedlam's lighter in my bra. 

Hot mess. Emphasis on the mess. I won't be drinking for awhile.